1931 International A-6 delivery truck
1931 International A6
Well, this is more like it. After test-driving examples from the first two decades of trucking, I’m finally dealing with a vehicle that bears many features that modern drivers would find recognizable.
There were heavy-duty trucks similar to the International A6 by the mid-1920s. And the International A6 is simply a continuation of the technology laid down by those earlier models. The look still harkens back to the early brass car ear: large, round headlamps mounted on gracefully sweeping front fenders, a slab-faced front radiator, and an up-right, boxy cab.
On the other hand, the overall design is light years beyond the 1915 Auto Wagon and much more robust than the Ford Model TT. The truck has a driveshaft – technology that was just beginning to emerge and overtake tried-and-tested chain drive systems.
The A6 frame is durable and strong. Indeed, the truck appears to have been deliberately over-built to make sure it could stand up to the rigors of a tough vocational life. Regional delivery operations and trucks were beginning to evolve – but the vast majority of heavy-duty trucks sold in the early ‘30s wound up in punishing construction applications. That’s certainly the case for this International AC, which David Qualls says spent its working life hauling bagged concrete for a construction company in and around Chicago. A6 models were rated at 3 tons GVCW, but Qualls figures his truck probably started out each morning with far more weight than that.
This A6 is powered by an International 279 cubic inch gas engine featuring an overhead valve design. It produces 31.5 hp, capable of 30 mph road speeds.
Climbing up into the truck for a test drive, I was immediately taken by the mix of old and new in the cab: There are instruments present in the flat, hard dashboard, but designers still felt that drivers needed only a modicum of information to safely operate the vehicle.
The seat is a vast improvement over the 1915 Auto Wagon and ’25 Model TT. I can feel the hard metal springs in the seat – which again, doesn’t adjust at all. It’s a lot like sitting on that old, forgotten couch in your grandmother’s front parlor. There’s no heat. And if you wanted air conditioning in 1931 you had to go to a movie theater.
The steering wheel, which is cast from the same hard, black ceramic material that old telephones were made of, is absolutely huge. Looking down, I’m gratified to see a fairly modern, five-speed transmission and shifter to the right. But I can’t help but notice that the floorboard of the truck is crafted from ¼-inch thick wood boards. Maybe when this AC rolled off the lot in ’31 there were rubber mats down there – but I kind of doubt it. There are open gaps in the wood and around the gear shift lever and I can see asphalt through them. But I’m sure that’s more a result of age than design. This truck, after all, is 80 years old and endured a long, hard working life.
Driving the truck is a lot easier than dealing with the Auto Wagon or the Ford TT. That’s because the foot pedals and transmission are thankfully similar to the standard configuration we use today.
But that doesn’t mean driving a 1931 International A6 is easy. This is a serious brute of a truck. It’s big. It’s slow. And nothing on it is power-assisted. The transmission is unsynchronized, of course. But even when I managed a good double-clutch, I found that actually making a shift was much harder than on today’s incredibly smooth manual transmissions. You really have to use considerable force to hit a gear and throw the shifter around – although, as with any truck, I’m sure that a little time and practice would make a huge difference in my case.
The A6’s suspension is optimized for work. So the ride, loaded or not, is extremely rough by today’s standards. Everything on the truck seems to vibrate, rattle and shake with vigorous enthusiasm as you roll down the road – but again, this could more of an age factor than design flaws. Gas fumes (the engine smells like its running a bit rich) waft up through the holes in the floorboard and the noise from the engine, frame and road makes normal conversation impossible.
But the most striking feature of the International A6 – for me, anyway – is its steering characteristics. The steering wheel is large for a reason: You need every bit of it to chuck this truck around. At road speeds, that’s actually pretty easy – although no one would ever accuse this truck of being nimble. But at slow speeds or a dead stop, the A6 becomes a beast. Turning the steering wheel in these conditions becomes a physical workout that could be featured in a “World’s Strongest Man” competition. You have to use both arms (notice I said “arms” and not “hands”) to maneuver this truck in tight surroundings. Truck drivers of the time were always portrayed as big, hulking guys with massive arms. And after a few minutes behind the wheel of this A6, I can see why. If you spent 40 or 50 hours a week behind the wheel of this truck, you’d have biceps that would make the governor of California nod in appreciation.
The ‘30s, perhaps more than any other decade, was when the truck as we know it today was refined and turned into the indispensable tool that we all know today. The International A6 is a fascinating truck to drive because it highlights the rapid advances that were taking place at that time. The truck is a wonderful mix of the technology that had gotten truck designers through their first two decades while hinting at much greater things that were yet to come.
